


When Dean Got Down off the Rack

by fannishliss



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-14
Updated: 2013-10-14
Packaged: 2017-12-28 17:58:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/994853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fannishliss/pseuds/fannishliss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Dean got down off the rack, the demons had to decide who would train him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When Dean Got Down off the Rack

**Author's Note:**

> the other day I asked for prompts, and I got a nice number, so thanks to everyone who responded! this story was inspired by [](http://samidha.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://samidha.livejournal.com/)**samidha** but is almost certainly not what she had in mind. Sorry, bb!

**"when Dean got down off the rack"**  


1200 words  
rated pg-13  
no pairing  
no spoilers beyond s4  
notes: the other day I asked for prompts, and I got a nice number, so thanks to everyone who responded! this story was inspired by [](http://samidha.livejournal.com/profile)[**samidha**](http://samidha.livejournal.com/) but is almost certainly not what she had in mind. Sorry, bb!

summary: When Dean got down off the rack, the demons had to decide who would train him.

When Dean got down off the rack, there was something of a Hellish turf war over the rights to him.Hell was nothing if not hierarchical.It hadn’t really mattered to Dean who owned his contract while he was still being tortured out of his mind, left to recover, and then tortured again, for longer than he could really keep track of.When he finally broke, just needing it to stop, they let him off the rack, and while he lay there, panting (he knew he didn’t really have a body, but Hell made you feel it anyway), they argued over him.

“He sold himself to one of us.We should get to train him up,” he heard one demon hiss smoothly.

“But his gifts!Think of what an incubus he would make.The world would be crawling with demon spawn within a year.”

Then Dean heard a girlish laugh, and tried to focus on just what demon could be so amused.

“Fighting over him without me?How precious.You know he belongs to me, so why bother?I’ve got plans, big plans for Dean here.But you know what?Let’s just ask him.”

Dean knew the lighthearted voice had to be Lilith, but who were the others? He shrank away from the attention of the arguing demons, but he had nowhere to go but back onto the rack.And he was utterly, utterly through with that. So he looked up.

“Dean, sweetheart, beautiful as ever! I’m not used to those black eyes yet though...still a bit thin, but they’ll be opaque soon enough.”

“Lilith,”Dean breathed, but he couldn’t think of a comeback.He’d been screaming for so many years now, and any moment’s respite only made it that much worse when they started in again, so his words came sluggish and slow without the stimulus of torture prompting him to speak.

“Aw, baby!How sweet of you to remember me!You’re mine, now, all mine.So, what are we going to do with you?”

Dean searched his thoughts: terror, anguish, despair, helpless rage; he had no idea what they were going to do with him, but he knew it couldn’t be good.

“Nothing... good?”Dean hazarded, wanting to be compliant.

“Well, obviously!But more specifically, what not good thing should we set you to?”

Dean frowned, unable to guess what kind of trick this was.“Anything?”

“Oh, no, Dean.No, no, no.This just won’t do.You have to make a choice, now that you’re going to be one of us.”

“I don’t...I can’t...”Dean struggled – his horror at the prospect of becoming a demon was greatly overshadowed by terror at the thought of getting himself put back on the rack.

“Well, we have a few contenders here.Tothba is here representing the crossroads demons; he thinks you should be one of them with your natural talent with traps and duplicity.”

Dean held his tongue, sensing that an answer was not yet required, yet he felt a slow burning of hatred well up at the mention of the crossroads demons.If he ever got the chance, he would annihilate them one by one, till even their memory was lost.

“Mellizahn wants you for the incubi.But I think you’d have too much fun with them.No sense rewarding you till your heart is really corrupt, huh.”

Dean felt another stab of anguish, knowing that Lilith’s hint that he would soon be completely corrupted had started to come true the second he got off the rack.

“I’ll take the boy, Lilith.He held out for so long, he’s sure to be an insightful student.”

With that, Dean’s horror overflowed.It was Alistair.Alistair, the Master Torturer, who had worked Dean over for decades now.Dean could never become like him, rending, whispering, insinuating, wrapping excruciation around every notion like silk until there was no escape from pain and horror.

“No, not him.Please,”he whispered to Lilith.He shifted, reaching weakly for her feet.

“Oh goodie!Looks like we have a winner!”Lilith clapped her hands like a little girl at a party.

“What?No! No!”Dean gasped, terrified they’d put him back on the rack for resisting, but unable to restrain his outbursts.

“I’ll ... do anything! Please! Not that!”Dean whimpered, trying to crawl to Lilith.

“Ugh, sweetheart, we heard you the first time.Try to remember your dignity.Alistair, he’s yours.”

Dean began to sob as the other demons hissed their relinquishment of claims, and the Master Torturer leaned down.

“Dean, my boy.I knew you’d be mine.I knew it as soon as I saw the light dim in your eyes.You have it in you – the insight, the cruelty.You’ll track down every shred of humanity in the souls we’ll throw to you, and you’ll dig it all out with your teeth and nails till nothing is left to them, and you, my boy, will love it.”

Alistair reached down with gentle hands and lifted up Dean’s despairing soul.He held a cup to Dean’s trembling lips, and praised him and stroked him lightly as he drank the black liquid down without even asking what it was.

“We’ll start you out easy, okay Dean?No suicides, nothing helpless and pathetic.Let’s choose a monster, shall we?”

“A ... a monster?”Dean stuttered, still terrified.

“Of course, Dean.Didn’t you call yourself a Hunter?You killed monsters and loved it.Surely you knew all monsters go to their just punishment.”

“Yes?”Dean guessed, hesitating.

“Yes!Excellent!”Alistair hissed in satisfaction.

“Right this way, my boy, we’ve been saving one just for you.I believe you knew this one as Jake.Remember when he stabbed your Sammy?”

Tied to the table was a soul Dean seemed to remember.There was not a mark on him. Dean frowned.“But... how long....”

“Sometimes, my boy, the wait itself is a torment.He’s been left alone for centuries, in the dark with the slimy, crawly things ... But he’s all yours now.Remember, how Jake gave himself to Azazel? He opened the gate.He stabbed your brother.He’s been tainted by a demon already.Don’t you think he deserves at least as much pain as you did? After all, he got you into this mess.”

“I ... yes?”Dean was reassured by Alistair’s words, despite himself.As long as he did what Alistair said, maybe he’d be safe.

“Now, Dean, this is very important.The first cut you’ll ever make in Hell.Maybe you’ll remember it later, maybe not.But here is the knife.Make it count.”

Dean looked at the soul of Jake.It could’ve been Sam on that table, tempted and betrayed by Azazel.But Dean had made a choice. He’d made a deal with the crossroads demon, and he was in Hell now, and off the rack, and the die was cast.

Dean felt Alistair press the knife into his hands.He didn’t even think of turning to plunge the knife into Alistair.He looked at the bound and gagged soul of Jake, pleading with him with his eyes and making begging noises behind the gag, and he remembered Sam’s body bleeding out in his arms, falling dead onto his shoulder.

Dean hefted the knife, got a feel for the grip, and with exquisite care, began to cut.


End file.
